


Lost Things

by Goofyjellyfish



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Arthur's POV, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Mild spoilers regarding Arthur's past, Mutual Pining, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-19 20:41:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20215984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goofyjellyfish/pseuds/Goofyjellyfish
Summary: Arthur finds Ms. Nellie Foster off on her own one day, and realizes they share the same pain.





	Lost Things

**Author's Note:**

> First bit of writing I've posted in a long time. Please enjoy <3 <3 <3

He found her sitting by the river on a log, brow knit together as she pulled a thread through someone’s old worn out shirt. There was a basket full of people’s clothing at her feet. Seemed she wandered off for some peace while doing some of Grimshaw’s chores.

The evening sun had just dipped below the horizon painting the sky pale pink and purple, a slight breeze tickling the loose hairs from her long braid. Her hair was the color of the sun reflecting off the river near them, white gold, gently picked up by the warm breeze. The only sounds the river and the crickets playing their evening tune. He sat beside her, pulling a cigarette from his satchel. 

“Whatchu doin’ all the way out here, Nellie?” He asked, smoke trailing from his lips with the words.

“Mm,” She hummed, tugging the needle through what he realised was his blue shirt, worn and patched up many times, “Just thinking of lost things...” Her eyes didn’t leave the task at hand, as she repaired the bullethole in his sleeve. It had been an O’Driscoll that left it there, lucky it had only grazed Arthur’s arm.

“You lose somethin’? We can go into town tomorrow, get ya whatever you need.” Arthur offered, cigarette muffling the words. 

Her shoulders fell with a long sigh, she dropped the shirt to her lap. “Oh Mr. Morgan, it’s-” He watched her eyes well with tears, red tinting her green eyes. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” She wiped them away with the back of her hand, “I came out here to be in the quiet because I knew....” She shook her head trailing off. 

“‘S’ok Ms. It’s ok,” It broke his heart to see her like this, so full of sorrow. He could see it in her eyes she hadn’t been getting good sleep, he wondered how long this had been going on.”

She was quiet for a moment, the flowing of the river over rocks the only sound between them, then she picked her needle back up to finish his shirt. 

“I had a son. I was young when I met his father, couldn’t have been more than eighteen,” She began, the words slow, a small smile on raspberry lips. “His name was James, but I called him Jamie. He was the most precious little thing. He had a mop of red hair like you’ve never seen. Just like my daddy’s. And so much energy,” She laughed with a sniffle, “I could hardly keep up with the boy. He was a sweetheart too, loved bringin’ me flowers....His daddy wasn’t around much, he’d come by to visit once in a while. He was much like you. I didn’t ask about his occupation, and he didn’t give me no details, but I know it wasn’t somethin’ that he could just up and leave, and that was ok. It never bothered us, being just Jamie and I. His daddy bought me a house, and we didn’t live too bad. I had a garden and a big old oak tree. We stuck a swing in there for Jamie; he loved that tree. Had to patch up so many banged up knees because of him climbing the damn thing,” She let out a small laugh shaking her head. It was strange to see Ms. Foster like this. To see her hurting so much; around camp she was known for a cheery disposition. She always had time to help whomever needed a hand, always the first one to start chores for the day. Maybe, Arthur realized, she did this bury the hurt under helpfulness, to keep herself busy so she didn't think of her son.

“His daddy just stopped coming around when Jamie turned 8. I don’t know if he died, or if he just didn’t care any longer. And then when Jamie was 10-” Her breath hitched in her throat, and the tears overwhelmed her.

Arthur was unsure of what to do, he hated to see such a kind woman feeling this way, and he knew the pain. He had felt it himself before. The ache of losing a child. She didn’t have to finish the sentence for him to know how it ended. 

“Oh, Ms. Foster,” He breathed feeling his own grief creeping up into his chest. He wasn’t sure what to say. He knew all too well how 'sorry' sounded to this kind of pain. To the cold grief, to the emptiness of everything you held well and dear. To the sight of toys collecting dust next to a fireplace, and two crosses planted next to a house with happy memories floating around them, 'sorry' was a worthless connotation that fell back hollow and unneeded. 

He took the shirt gently from her hands and let it fall with the other clothes in the basket, and let his big arms consume her, his hand stroking her hair. 

“I know,” He said over and over as she sobbed into his shoulder, staining his shirt with her tears, “I know how you feel,” He sighed, “I know what you’ve lost Nellie. I do,” His own voice broke huskily. “And it ain’t right, and no matter what you do, it never feels right. But yer gonna be ok.” Arthur ran his hand up and down her back in soothing strokes. 

“I miss my little Jamie so much,” She sobbed, the ugly kind of sobbing, the kind where you can’t catch your breath because it hurts so much and your face is all sorts of twisted up. But it didn’t matter to Arthur, she was always beautiful in his eyes. She was a strong, fine lady. He’d never say it out loud or to anyone but his journal about how he felt about Nellie Foster. He knew she deserved better than him.   
They sat together a while, the sobs coming to a slow stop, as stars began popping up and the sky turned rich dark blue with night. Nellie pulled away from him, wiping her eyes, “Thank you Mr. Morgan. I’m sorry I’m so emotional.... It’s just today it’s been two years since he passed. It just hurts a lot more.”

“Nellie, you don’t need to apologize fer nothin’. ‘S’ok,” Arthur stood after a beat, “It’s gettin’ late, should we head up back to camp? Or do ya wanna sit here for a bit longer?” 

Nellie looked up at the moon that now graced the sky with her presence. “I think I’ll stay here for just a bit. Need to collect my thoughts before I see all those people up at camp. You go on ahead though. I’ll see you in the morning.” She lit a lamp and pulled out the shirt, deciding to finish her mending. 

“You sure you don’t want me to stay?” Arthur offered just to be sure.

“Yes I’m sure. Thank you though, Arthur,” She pulled the thread through with a nod. 

He watched her for a moment, then with a nod, stepped away, “Anything for you Ms. Foster.” The outlaw said as he strode away from her and headed back up to camp, heart a bit heavier now than when he had left.


End file.
